Chapter 15 #2
He gives the back of my hand a couple of kisses, causing goosebumps to pebble my skin, then he shifts into gear and sets off towards his house.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did,” I say to lighten up the mood.
“Smart ass.” He chuckles, then glances at me before focusing back on the road. “I saw the way you looked at Aiden and Cammie when they kissed. Did you not know?”
I shake my head no and release a sigh.
“Will you tell me what went through your head?”
“I know what they do isn’t any of my business, but I felt as if everyone was in on something that I wasn’t.
You know? Like . . . these two people are my best friends.
They’ve seen me at my absolute worst. They know my deepest darkest secrets—things I don’t tell anyone—but yet they kept this from me while everyone else knew. I felt left out.”
He nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “If it’s any consolation, we only know because Carter figured it out while we were all working out together. Then he went ape shit on Aiden in front of everyone. It was a whole thing.”
“Oh. Wow. To be a fly on the wall.”
“You have no idea.”
He fiddles with his phone, then “The Night We Met” begins to play low throughout his speakers.
I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but something about the lyrics catches my attention.
I listen to each word carefully, watching out the window while we pass through the city.
Sometimes, I wish I could go back to the night he and I met in that garden.
Maybe there are things I would’ve done differently and maybe not.
If I knew then what I know now, would I have gotten into that truck with him?
Would I have tangled myself up in these emotions I still can’t seem to get rid of?
Because if I’m being one-hundred percent honest, I’m still very much in love with Sean Mackenzie.
Lost in thought, I pick at my nails as we drive down the highway.
“Hey, Rebel.” He reaches over and takes my hand in his, giving it a queeze.
“Will you stay with me tonight? I would tell you that I don’t want you driving home this late, and that would be the truth, but we both know that’s not the only reason I want you to stay.
” When I hesitate to answer, he adds, “As much as I don’t want to admit it, I do know where you stand, so if you decide to stay, I promise I won’t read too much into it. ”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I mull it over for a few minutes before giving him a nod.
We ride in silence to his house, and we don’t speak as we enter the door.
I have no doubt that his mind—just like mine—is working overtime to conclude what we truly are to each other even though I’ve told him repeatedly that we’re not together.
My actions aren’t one of a person who truly believes we’re over.
Part of me wants to give him another chance, part of me is scared to, and another part of me screams that tying him down to me in my condition is unfair.
I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking confused.
“I need to shower. Wanna join me?”
Is he serious? Of course he’s serious. I raise a brow and he chuckles lightly. “Didn’t think so, but it was worth the shot.”
Fidgeting with my hands, I look around the living room like a fish out of water while Sean heads off toward his bedroom.
Should I sleep on the couch? Do I take the guest room?
What to do plagues me as he saunters back into the room, handing me a t-shirt that’s way too big and a pair of shorts I know will never stay up.
“You can use the shower in the guest room if you want to. Everything you need should be in there but if you need anything else just yell for me.”
Guest room it is then.
Sean turns to leave but then spins back around and threads his fingers through my hair. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he says, holding my eyes hostage, then he places a kiss to my temple before leaving me there with an overactive mind.
I head down the hall to the guest bathroom, and once the door clicks behind me, I lean back against it with my eyes closed, clutching his clothes to my chest.
What the fuck am I doing?
Sleeping. That’s all you’re doing, Hannah. You’re gonna borrow that bed in the guestroom like an Airbnb because it’s well after three in the morning, and then you’re going to wake up before he does and sneak out.
Yeah, good plan.
Absentmindedly, I bring his shirt up to my nose and inhale.
Bad move. His scent lingers on his clothes, and God does he smell good.
My chest tightens into a dull ache, reminding me that staying here, being in his presence in general, is a terrible idea.
It was just a moment of weakness, I think to myself as I hop into the shower and wash the day and him off my body.
Stepping out, I dry off, then pull Sean’s shirt over my head, but when I drag the shorts up my legs and let go, they fall right back down to my ankles.
Rolling them doesn’t help either. I laugh at myself for even trying.
With the waistband clutched in my fist, I awkwardly take my clothes to the laundry room and throw them in the washer, then head toward the guest room.
“Where are you going?”
“Um . . . to bed?”
“Wrong room.”
Massaging my temples, I release a sigh, “Sean. The lines are blurring.”
“Please. I’m not asking for anything beyond you being in my bed when I wake up.”
Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment because as much as I know this is a terrible idea, I follow him into his room anyway.
He turns back the duvet, and I climb into his bed, lying on my side, facing him, and putting as much distance as I can muster between us without falling off the bed.
Sean’s arms reach out, pulling me to him until we’re chest to chest; his scent blanketing around me.
Fighting this is hard. I miss him. He’s been with me all evening, he’s lying beside me right now, and yet, I miss him so much.
Snuggling into his chest, I allow the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to lull me to sleep while so many questions play on my mind.
If this isn’t where I’m supposed to be, why does here feel like it’s exactly where I belong?